


a farewell to madness

by bird_on_a_wire



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Making Out, Second Chances, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:08:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25264357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bird_on_a_wire/pseuds/bird_on_a_wire
Summary: "You’ve been half my life. All of my madness."Written for the TLK Fanfic Fest, prompt: Brida/Uhtred, Brida's pregnant and alone and desperate to get laid when she comes across Uhtred and his pretty boys on their way north.**this might fudge the timeline of 4.10 a bit, but I just needed them to have closure.**
Relationships: Uhtred of Bebbanburg/Brida (The Last Kingdom)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 27





	a farewell to madness

She finds them on the road to Coccham, though Uhtred knew she'd been following them for a day. He'd thought she had travelled with Stiorra and Sigtryggr, but he hadn't seen her since the day she'd begged him to kill her in the palace courtyard of Witancaester. It weighed heavily on him, like many things in his life, what had happened to Brida, with Ragnar, Cnut, especially with the Welsh. And now, here on the road North, he finds her alone and pregnant, her horse and pack having been stolen by other Saxons leaving Witancaester. 

She'd taken Osferth by surprise when he'd been relieving himself in the woods. Uhtred almost wanted to laugh at the circumstances. If the poor monk hadn't already been pissing himself, he surely would have when Brida held a seax to his ribs. 

"I need a horse," she shouts at Uhtred, one hand hooked around Osferth's shoulder. The other with a blade tipped under his neck as she leads him out of the woods. Uhtred and the others are waiting for him there on the road. 

"Brida, enough," Uhtred says, dismounting his horse and ignoring her warnings. "Let the Baby Monk go, you don't actually want him." 

"Stop telling me what I want!" Brida screams, but she let go of Osferth with a push, and the younger man takes off running, past Uhtred to where Finan holds his horse. 

Uhtred motions for the others to go, and though Finan looks wary, he nods, and they head on to where they had planned to camp. 

"I have nothing." Brida seethes, the white-hot anger evident in her eyes when she turns to him. "Because of you, I have no man, no home, nothing. All I have is him." She touches her belly. 

Uhtred continues to walk closer, despite Brida holding her seax in attack position. "Brida, are you not tired of fighting?" 

"I have been tired my whole life, Uhtred! All of it, fighting to have something that is always out of reach. To be a Dane, but never Dane enough to Ragnar's daughter like you were his son. To be your wife, but never Saxon enough for Alfred to let you marry me. To be Ragnar's woman, but never able to keep a pup in my belly, so I had to stand and watch him pup other women. To command an army with Cnut, but not submissive enough to let him lead alone." The tears are streaming down Brida's face now, and Uhtred can feel that his own face is wet as well. "So yes, Uhtred. I am tired. But I cannot stop now."

Uhtred pushes the seax out of her hand, and she drops it without a fight, letting him wrap his arms around her tightly, her swollen belly between them. "Just for tonight," Uhtred says, his thumb wiping away the tears from her face. "Rest with us tonight, eat and drink, and in the morning, you can take one of the horses." 

"She tried to kill ya," Finan warns Uhtred later as they rub down the horses, watching Brida sit at the fire with Sihtric, Osferth, and Aethelstan. "What's to say she won't try again tonight when yer sleepin'?"

It is hard for him to explain his relationship with Brida to anyone. He had been with many women over the years. With some, he had made a life, fathered children, and loved them all in their own way. Brida did not own a place in his heart, rather she was a part of the thing itself, entwined in and around and through. 

"It will be fine, Finan," Uhtred reassures him, patting the Irishman on the back as he walks back to fire. He doesn't quite believe that, but he keeps the thoughts to himself. 

"Is that for my protection or theirs?" Brida asks, watching him slide his seax under the top of the furs, easily reachable should he need it. She lies back in the furs he'd insisted she share with him though she'd grumbled about it for a good hour first. 

"You know it is for theirs," Uhtred replies with a laugh, and she rolls her eyes at him. They lie side by side, as they had done so many years ago, and Uhtred cannot help but think of all the years that have passed between them. "How are you feeling now?" He asks after they have laid in silence for a while. 

"I am what I am." Brida sighs. "It will be time soon, perhaps." 

Uhtred turns to face her, leaning his head on his arm. "Will you go to Eforwic?" 

Brida does not turn to face him but continues to look up at the stars. "No. I don't know. I haven't decided." 

"You could come to Coccham."

"You know I couldn't."

"You would have my protection."

It is then that Brida turns to look at him. "And why should I believe you or trust you?" 

The comment stings, but Uhtred knows it is what he deserves. Brida's admission earlier on the road had stuck in his chest, more painful than any knife wound. He had failed her, like he had failed Ragnar, failed his children. He reaches out to touch her, unable to help himself. Running his knuckle along her cheek. She closes her eyes, and he wonders how long it has been since someone has touched her. He knows what it is like to live without it, and he remembers the unbearableness of it keenly. 

"Do you know the worst part?" Brida asks, her voice a whisper even though his men are far enough away to not hear their conversation. 

"What?"

"I always want to hump," Brida says with a pained laugh, and Uhtred can't help but laugh with her. "It's all I think about. I'm as bad as you when we were growing up." They laugh until their sides hurt, and finally, Brida puts her hand over Uhtred's mouth to shush him when their laughing gets too loud. 

It feels like it's the first time in decades that Brida touches him with an emotion other than anger. Her fingers trace lightly over his lips, and perhaps he should feel guilty about it, but Uhtred's cock stirs beneath his trousers. He holds her hand to his mouth, kissing the tip of each finger, the middle of her palm, and the delicate skin inside her wrist. 

"This is a dangerous path…" Brida says, looking at him warily. Uhtred trails his hand from her wrist along her arm, over the curve of her shoulder. His hand sinks into her hair, cupping the back of her neck. 

"That is the kind of path I often find myself on," Uhtred replies, his nose nuzzling against hers. Brida laughs, shaking her head as Uhtred's lips find hers. Kissing Brida feels like taking that first breath after being underwater. It's instinctual. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding along her bottom lip and licking into her mouth when she opens to him. He moves to nip at her jaw and kisses along her neck down to the swell of her breasts that peek above her tunic. 

Uhtred helps her out of her tunic, and despite the darkness, he can still make out the shape of her, the fullness of her breasts, the swell of her belly and hips. "You are like having Freyja herself in my bed," Uhtred growls, a finger lightly circling the rigid peak of her tit. 

"Then you should worship me," Brida says, with a breathless whisper. 

"I intend to," Uhtred replies. He runs the flat of his tongue where he'd just touched her, circling her hardened flesh before taking it in his mouth, sucking just enough to watch Brida arch her back in pleasure. He kisses and licks over her other nipple, nipping playfully and then sucking the tip into his mouth to soothe it. 

Brida wriggles out of her own trousers beneath the furs, and she takes his hand, putting it between her legs. There is no pretence here, she is desperate for it, needing a release as much as Uhtred does, if not more. 

The soft curls beneath his fingers are already damp, and he slides one finger over her sex, teasing her slowly. He alternates between light grazes over the bud at the top of her cunt with long slow circles, teasing her entrance with the promises of his fingers but never quite pushing inside. 

"You are a bastard," Brida groans, her hand curling around his wrist, pushing his hand harder against her cunt. "Don't make me beg." 

"Never." Uhtred kisses her again, harder this time, and pushes two fingers into her. She is unbelievably warm and incredibly wet. "Is this what you wanted, goddess?" He asks, working his fingers in and out of her, the sound is obscene and delightful, but Uhtred thanks the gods they are far away from his men and under furs. He does not want to share this gorgeous woman beside him with anyone. 

"More," Brida demands urgently, her mouth kissing along his jaw, neck, and teeth biting at the flesh of his shoulder when he slips a third finger inside of her, and she peaks almost immediately. He can feel her flesh pulsing around his fingers, her body moving rhythmically against his hand as she slowly gives in to her release. 

His cock, which he has painfully tried to ignore, is aching now. He pushes his trousers down, stroking himself twice, the slick of her on his hand, allowing him to easily guide over his flesh. 

"I can just…" Uhtred's words fail, and he feels as green as the boy he's once been with her. 

"Don't be dumb," Brida says, and she's turning over, scooting back against him so he can enter her with one long slow push. 

They rock together, building a momentum. He tells her all the things he has wished to say, how he dreams of her still, all these years later. How her love for him and his love for her is a curse, he wishes never to be broken. He tells her all the things he should not say, and yet he cannot help himself. 

Brida reaches behind to pull him closer to her, his face pressed against her head and neck as he spends inside of her with a guttural moan. They fall asleep face to face, Brida's hand running her fingers along his hairline. She presses a kiss to the scar on his temple, a reminder of where their story began. "I will always love you, stupid boy," she whispers.

In the morning, Brida, and Osferth's horse, are gone.


End file.
